


Requiem for the Innocent

by Brandi0704



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Believe it or not there is fluff in this, Blood will be shed, Espionage, Fake Mafia Science, Fluff and Humor, Genderfluid Character, Human Trafficking, I apologize in advance, M/M, Mafia AU, Otabek Altin in a suit, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating mainly for violence, and a metric fuck ton of guns, everybody is a sassmaster, that deserved a tag, this is going to hurt, this is not the happy ending you are looking for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-21 02:10:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16150340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brandi0704/pseuds/Brandi0704
Summary: Four years after being spotted by the Russian Intelligence and Protection Agency, Yuri Plisetsky is given the opportunity to prove himself in one of the most intense cases the agency has ever seen.But things don't always go as planned.----AKA that one fic where Yuri goes undercover and accidentally falls for the enemy.





	Requiem for the Innocent

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to the reason why I haven't been updating my other fic as of late!
> 
> I've had this idea in my head for forever (I've already planned out its sequel for crying out loud), and I'd been writing it off and on with my other fic over the past few months. So I'm hoping people will enjoy it enough to stick around. I tried to keep the mafia/agent stuff as realistic as possible but let's be honest, that'll probably go out the window because I am not in the mafia nor a Russian spy. Also because this is my fic and I do what I want.
> 
> Unfortunately you didn't read the tags wrong. While I DO have an alternate good ending for this fic planned, it is not the true ending. That sucker is going to hurt.
> 
> So, here we go. All aboard the pain train... choo-choo...

It was approaching the end of Yuri’s first hour laying on his stomach on the dampened post-rain concrete. He shivered, silently cursing at the agency for not providing him a blanket or  _ something _ to lay on so that he could at least be somewhat dry while he waited the evening out. Late October was wet and cold and not a month to be messed with—especially at night.

Yuri gazed towards the ghostly building several meters away. Three somber floors were lined with large, filthy windows, and heavy layers of grime covered most of the building. His eyes followed along the bright yellow lines near the main entrance that marked parking stalls that would never be used. According to Yakov, multiple buildings had once been erected in an attempt to revive a dying area, but construction of the new development had soon come to a halt when criminal activity heightened. Now, the aging administration buildings in the area sat by themselves, out of the way and out of sight, making it a prime location for the mob to add one of them to their many bases.

The closest building to this was a small distance away, providing two extra floors and a perfect view of the roof and the base’s entire northern exposure. This was where Yuri was perched. It was distanced enough that, unless somebody came looking for him directly, nobody would find him.

His gaze moved to the small board to his right, tiny red lights indicating all mics were silent.

It was a routine infiltration operation. Get in, cover Viktor while he did his thing, get out. There were only two burly men keeping watch of the base this time, so this would be a cakewalk for their team. Yuri went over the plan in his head. Mila would play decoy, pretending to be lost on her way to a party. Georgi would find a way to sneak Viktor in through the back and guide him in the right direction. Soon after, Georgi would go back and watch from a reasonable distance in the event that Mila would need back-up, but she never did. Guards tended to be dense, and Mila was the best in the trade at taking advantage of that. Yuri would sit outside and keep watch, SV-98 at the ready, though it was rare that he found himself releasing the safety during these basic ops.

Suddenly, the light underneath Viktor’s name turned green and the small communications piece in Yuri’s ear crackled to life.

“You know,” Viktor started. “For an abandoned office building, they’ve got some serious security set up in this place. I had to crack three codes just to get into this room alone. I didn’t even think this area  _ had _ electricity.”

Yuri narrowed his eyes and waited for Viktor to tell him that he was joking but was only met with an awkward silence. When he realized a punchline wasn’t coming any time soon, Yuri pinched the bridge of his nose with a gloved hand. “If they didn’t have power, then why would we even need you right now?”

Viktor was silent for a few seconds, he must have realized his mistake. “Shut up,” he finally retorted.

Yuri took off one of his gloves—revealing a perfectly and subtly manicured hand—and reached into his bag, pulling out a packet of fruit snacks. They may have been on a mission, but that didn’t mean Yuri saw much of the action, and he was hungry, so sue him. “So, we invite the greatest cyber-criminal in the country to join our team of  _ highly-skilled agents  _ and he doesn’t even possess common sense,” he said before popping a fruit snack in his mouth.

“I wasn’t invited, it was either this or jail,” the older agent said flatly. “Also, when I hear the word ‘abandoned’, I assume there’s nothing of worth left. It also doesn’t help that this place looks like it had a hot date with Chernobyl. I wouldn’t even be surprised if I grew an extra head overnight!”

Viktor was rambling. Yuri noticed that he tended to do that when he was anxious. He knew Viktor didn’t particularly enjoy having to go out on these infiltration missions, but most times it was necessary. Criminal or not, he was the best at getting the cyber-dirt needed to help take out these sectors.

Though, Viktor’s criminal background had remained a complete mystery to Yuri. He refused to tell him what he had done to land himself at R.I.P.A., no matter how many times he would beg or bribe. If Yuri ever got annoyed and demanded to know why he kept it from him, Viktor would simply tell him that he valued their friendship. Whatever  _ that _ meant.

“You’re so dramatic,” Yuri offered lightly, trying to ease his nerves.

“And who would even bother paying the bills for this monstrosity?” Viktor asked, completely ignoring Yuri’s soft response.

“I’m just going out on a limb here, but probably the bad guys.”

“Stop attacking me,” Viktor whined, holding the last syllable for longer than necessary. “Anyways, I’m booting up the mainframe now, it shouldn’t take too long. How does everything look outside, Yurio?”

“That’s not my name.”

“Answer the question, Yurio.”

“It’s clear.” Yuri replied, gritting his teeth. “Nobody’s gone in or come out, surrounding areas are clear as well,” he said before pausing, curiosity getting the best of him. “Hey, where exactly are you?”

“Third floor, facing north.”

“Could you be a little more specific? There are windows lining the entire third floor.” Yuri deadpanned, and a few seconds later he saw a blinking light in the window near the northeast corner of the building. Viktor’s flashlight. “Thank you.”

Yuri took in a few more gummies before setting the package off to the side. The eerie silence bestowed upon them as Viktor went back to working his magic was beginning to make him feel uneasy, and Yuri found himself needing a bit of reassurance.

“Mila? Are you still doing okay?”

Silence.

“I’m pretty sure she’s still distracting the henchmen.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Don’t say henchmen, this isn’t some stupid spy movie.”

“That’s what they are, Yurio.”

“No. They’re guards.”

“Denial is the first stage,” Viktor teased. “Alright, I’m in.”

“Spoken like a true hacker,” Yuri smirked, knowing that his comment would get under the technician’s skin. Yuri mentally prepared himself for yet another one of Viktor’s lengthy lectures on the differences between a hacker and a cracker.

Before Viktor had the chance to respond, however, both Georgi and Mila’s lights turned green—followed by Georgi’s voice.

“Hey, Tech Support, Fairy,  _ shut up _ . We can still hear literally everything you’re saying even when our mics are off,” he scolded.

Mila immediately dismissed Georgi’s complaint, adding a much lighter tone to her voice. “We’re on our way up. That was such a waste of forty minutes. First of all, those men had terrible flirtation skills. Second of all, they talked about themselves way too much.”

“So, what did you do?” Viktor inquired.

“I got fed up, so I just bashed their heads together and broke their kneecaps—in the off chance they wake up, of course.”

“Are you sure it was them that had the poor flirtation skills?” Yuri questioned as he tossed final fruit snack into his mouth and spoke around it. “I’ve seen you try to flirt.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“I’m just saying,” he defended, throwing up his arms in mock surrender to nobody as he crumpled the empty plastic package before throwing it back into his bag.

“Speaking of flirting,” Mila said, mischievous tone and all. “I think I finally may have found the perfect guy for you, Yuri.”

“Is now  _ really _ a good time, Mila?”

“It’s always good time to talk about your sad love life,” Viktor joined in.

“Fuck off, Viktor,” Yuri said, reaching for his discarded glove and sliding it back on.

“Can you all act like professionals for two seconds? Please?” Georgi groaned.

“Absolutely not.”

Georgi grumbled a few choice curses before attempting to redirect his team’s attention back to the task at hand. “Nikiforov, we’re almost up there, how’s it coming?”

“I’m at forty-four percent.”

“How much time do you still need?”

There was a brief moment of silence, save for the light tapping sounds of fingers upon a keyboard in the background. “About eight minutes.”

“So, we  _ can  _ talk about Yuri’s love life!”

“Shut up, Baba.”

“You’re all insufferable,” Georgi finished with a flat tone.

As the others laughed at Georgi’s misery, Yuri noticed something out of the corner of his eye from the east. A large black and windowless van was rapidly approaching and came to a screeching halt in the parking lot. The back doors swung open and four men filed out, all wielding simple Makarov pistols that Yuri hadn’t used since his initial training.

“Guys, you’ve got company,” Yuri faintly said into his mic, the laughter in his ear immediately stopped, quickly replaced with the sounds of shuffling—he assumed Mila was getting her tactical gear on. “Five. Armed with PM’s. I can take them out easily from here. Do I shoot?”

“No. Nikiforov, you stay here and continue manning the hard drive. Plisetsky, keep your eyes locked on the roof, we’ll lead any stray members there. Babicheva, come with me, we’re going to have some fun.”

“Um…” Mila hesitated. “Okay, I guess.”

Yuri narrowed his eyes and gave an incredulous look, hoping that Georgi would somehow see it from a block away. “Perhaps you should just lead them all to the roof, Georgi, they have guns. Mila’s a hand-to-hand combat expert, that’s not exactly useful in a gunfight.”

“We’ll be fine.”

Yuri had a really bad feeling about this in the pit of his stomach but was unable to protest. Georgi was in charge, after all, and the only way Yuri could shoot without command was if Georgi was unconscious.

He listened sharply as the two silently made their way back down to the main floor. As they got closer to the group, Yuri could faintly hear the sounds of a foreign language being spoken among the gang members through the mics but couldn’t decipher just which language it was.

Two gunshots rang out in Yuri’s ears, causing him to jolt.

“Come and get us, you bastards!” Georgi shouted.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Yuri yelled. “Don’t provoke them, you idiot!”

The next few seconds were full of shouting and the bangs of weapons being fired. Yuri held his breath, feeling useless as his scope was unable to see into the first floor beyond the dirty windows at his angle. He could hear the pants and huffs of his teammates running and hiding to save themselves from being hit.

It was like a sadistic game—run, hide, shoot, dodge, repeat.

Somewhere between the chaos and his heartbeat, Yuri could hear Viktor shout he was done. Remembering that Viktor needed guidance Yuri spoke as calmly and clearly as possible, “Viktor, get to the roof, take the east exit and when you get there, stay far away from the west exit.”

“Got it.”

A few more shots.

“Mila!”

Yuri’s stomach lurched, though the feeling was quickly replaced with fury. “I fucking told you!”

“Fuck, Plisetsky, get ready!”

Yuri narrowed his eyes, removing the safety and staring intently into his scope. His finger hovered over the trigger, ready to send whoever hurt his friend into oblivion. “I’ve never felt readier in my life.”

The exit to the roof burst open, startling Viktor, who was huddled near the easternmost edge of the roof. Yuri waited a split second for the command.

“Now!”

It was over in a matter of seconds. The air was still around Viktor and Georgi as five limp bodies littered the rooftop.

“Where is she?” Yuri hissed, not missing a beat.

“First floor, near the southwest exit.”

“You better hope my best friend is still alive you piece of shit, or the clean-up crew is going to be dealing with nine dead bodies instead of seven.”

“Was that a threat, Plisetsky?”

“You bet your ass it was.” Yuri made sure the coast was clear before packing up his gear as quickly as possible and sprinting down through the emergency exits, along the vacant street, and into the dark building through its main entrance.

He weaved his way through aisles of empty cubicles and offices to reach the back corner. He found them there, his best friend’s small but strong figure laying slack on the ground. Viktor was kneeling at the crown of her head, his left hand soothingly brushing loose strands of hair away from her face as his right hand pressed a makeshift bandage to the wound on her forehead. His phone was held in place between his right shoulder and his ear, presumably talking with Yakov. Yuri would have almost found Viktor’s movements calming, if it were any other scenario.

Yuri quietly put his bag and case down on the ground and sat himself next to Mila, bringing his knees to his chest. He reached over her torso, placing a gentle hand over hers as he examined her features.

Despite the ripped sleeve that Viktor had been pressing to her head, she looked at peace. Her normally-present frown lines — a true testament to the fact that Mila was often deep in thought (or perhaps a result from being surrounded by men all day) — were almost nonexistent as her forehead indicated no sign of tension, and the smallest smile ghosted her lips. It was as though she was simply taking a nap.

But that wasn’t the case, and it made Yuri feel nauseous.

Viktor abandoned his actions for a moment to clutch at his phone and end the call. He placed it on the ground before returning to her hair. Yuri finally took the opportunity to ask. “Viktor, how is she?”

“I think they just knocked her out. She’s got a steady pulse, at least,” Viktor replied calmly, not taking his eyes off of the redhead. “Probably a concussion, too, but I’m not a doctor. They’re sending an ambulance now.”

A sudden rage boiled within Yuri, the sight giving him the urge to swing around and beat his so-called  _ leader _ to death with his rifle case.

Just then, Yuri heard heavy footsteps approaching, coming to a halt about three feet from where his back was turned.

“Shouldn’t you be manning the door and making sure nothing else like this happens again?”

Something in Yuri snapped, and in mere seconds he was on his feet and violently shoving at Georgi, causing the older agent to stumble backwards. “Fuck you, Popovich. We could have avoided all of this,” Yuri spread his arms out wide and gestured around the open room, “if you had just let me take them out before they had even reached the building.”

After regaining his footing, Georgi launched forward, grabbing a fistful of Yuri’s black turtleneck sweater and bringing him closer until their noses were almost touching.

“You really want to do this right now, Punk?” Georgi seethed.

Yuri barred his teeth. “Bring it, y—”

“Hey!” Viktor interjected. “Stop fighting, that’s the last thing we need right now.”

“Whatever.” Georgi grumbled, pushing Yuri away from him. "Nikiforov, did you get what you needed?”

“I did.”

“Good. Once the ambulance arrives, I’ll escort you back to Yakov and make sure nobody gets their hands on that drive. Plisetsky, you stay here and keep watch until the clean-up crew is done. Once completed, you are to come straight back to headquarters.”

“Fuck that, I’m going with Mila.”

“That’s an order, Plisetsky!”

***

Yuri stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows of the sixty-third-floor boardroom as his colleagues filed in for their meeting. Their headquarters nearly towered over the vibrant city of Moscow, giving them an ethereal view of the city below. Witnessing the hustle and bustle of life below him made him think about the life he currently had — the one he had almost missed out on — and the reflection made him thankful that he was spotted four years ago.

But never in a million years did Yuri ever think he’d wind up working for the Russian Intelligence and Protection Agency.

It had been three days since the ill-conceived operation, and Yuri refused to even acknowledge Georgi’s existence. They hadn’t had a proper meeting since the evening of the infiltration, where Georgi had smashed in Yuri’s office window out of a blinding fury. Yuri had opted to go straight home rather than back to headquarters, blatantly disobeying Georgi’s orders. Although Yakov wasn’t entirely impressed with Yuri’s decision, he was even less impressed with Georgi and therefore let it slide.

Yuri knew he would be forced to acknowledge Georgi during this meeting and beyond, however, as Viktor and his tech crew had obtained new and crucial information from the drive that would send their team into phase two.

This didn’t bother him as much though, as there were more important issues to be angry about.

The agency was keeping them all in the dark regarding Mila’s condition, and had it not been for the fact that Viktor had an in with the hospital, Yuri would have been losing his sanity by now.

Yakov entered the room and shut the door behind him, providing Yuri with his cue to take his place at very end of the long meeting table.

“Good job, gentlemen,” Yakov gave an appreciative nod towards the back of the table where Yuri sat, along with Viktor on his immediate right, with Georgi to the right of him. Yakov received only a raised eyebrow from Yuri in response as the elephant in the room grew larger.

The seat to Yuri’s left was vacant.

Yakov sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose, fully aware that he was about to break procedure. “Mila’s in recovery, but she’s doing very well should be back sometime this week.”

Yuri, of course, knew all of this already, but finally hearing it from their case officer helped ease his tension.

“Alright, let’s begin,” Yakov started as the projection screen behind him blinked to life, revealing the first slide. An aerial view of the area they had been monitoring for months. “As you’re all aware, we’ve been following this arms-trafficking sector for a while now, but thanks to Agent Nikiforov and his crew, we now know that they’ve entered a new contract.” He paused briefly to change the slide to a political map of Kazakhstan, Moscow just barely in view. “They’re now aiding a smaller but more serious international mafia based in Almaty. They call themselves the  _ Unsizders _ .”

Georgi scoffed in dismissal.

Yakov paused to stare daggers at the source of the mockery, placing both hands on the edge of the table and leaning forward. “Something funny to you, Agent Popovich?”

“I’ve never heard of them, so they can’t be that bad.”

“No, Popovich,” Yuri spat, giving him an incredulous look before rolling his eyes. “You’ve never heard of them because they’re good at what they do.”

“Agent Plisetsky is right,” Yakov concurred, never taking his narrowed eyes off of Georgi. “This is the first time we’ve heard of these guys, but they’ve apparently been active for quite a few years. According to our most trusted sources, these gentlemen are top-of-the-line, not to be taken lightly.”

Taking the dark-haired agent’s silence as a cue, Yakov leaned back, removing his hands from the table to change the slide. It was a candid photo of a lightly tanned, well-built man (though, still slightly on the lean side) with black hair and charming dark blue eyes. He wore a simple white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing a plethora of tattoos running along his arms. “Leroy, Jean-Jacques. Goes by JJ. Twenty-four. It would appear he runs the North American branch side-by-side with this guy,” Yakov said as the slide changed again, revealing another candid photo of a shorter, more tanned and slightly less well-built man. He was dressed similar to Leroy but lacked the excessive number of tattoos. “De La Iglesia, Leo. Twenty-four. Combined, these two are wanted on over thirty counts of murder in Canada and the United States.”

“ _ Canada _ ?” Georgi asked.

“Are they just letting in anybody or what?” Yuri followed.

“And why are they  _ here _ ?” Another colleague added. Luka, if Yuri remembered correctly.

Yakov flipped to the next slide, a political map of the world, with select cities marked, all with curved lines connecting to the Moscow area. “It seems they’ve enlisted some of the most dangerous people from around the world, and if that’s the case, that may make them one of the deadliest mafias we’ve ever had to deal with. If they really have gained the trust of the Russian mob, and vice versa, we’re in for a ride.”

“Yikes.”

“Correct, and they’re all lead by this guy,” the slide changed. “Altin, Otabek. Twenty-three. Possible underboss, but we don’t have enough information on him besides his age and status.”

Yuri took a hard look at the slide. A side profile of the man in question. Unlike the others, he wore a well-fitted tailored navy suit and sunglasses, giving him the professional appearance of any head honcho in the mob. His hair was dark and styled in an impeccable undercut, but what really caught his attention was this guy’s  _ jawline _ . Shit, who needed a laser to cut diamonds when you had  _ that _ . Mila would have an absolute field day with him.

“They’re all so young,” Viktor commented.

Yakov nodded. “Again, correct. But don’t let their ages fool you, they know what they’re doing. Leroy, De La Iglesia, and Altin are inseparable. We may not know a lot about them yet, but we do, however, know that they’ll be at the gala being held at the Tsaritsyno this Saturday.”

“Great!” Georgi clapped brazenly. “So, let the police deal with it.”

“If the police get involved, they’ll never talk. We need to gain their trust and find out why they’re here and what they want with Russia’s elite, which is why I’m sending Agent Plisetsky in undercover on this one.”

“As what, a teenager wanting to buy a measly handgun?”

Yuri rolled his eyes and ignored Georgi’s ‘question’ as he turned to his trusted colleague. “Viktor, is there any way you’d be able to get me on that guest list?”

“Yeah, should be no problem.”

“And Plisetsky,” Yakov chimed in. “I’m putting you in charge of phase two.”

A smug feeling of satisfaction bloomed within Yuri as he raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly. After Georgi’s little temper tantrum upon returning back to headquarters, Yuri knew he was being tested on his leadership skills to see if he would be a good replacement.

Georgi, however, wasn’t having it.

“You’re putting some pubescent surveillance sniper in charge of one of the biggest operations we’ve ever dealt with? Are you fucking crazy?! This kid is going to get us all killed!”

“You put Agent Babicheva in grave danger in that last operation, Popovich. All because you felt reckless and trigger-happy. I’m disappointed. You’re lucky she wasn’t killed, or that would have been on you.”

Georgi’s confidence wavered for a moment. “I thought we could handle them,” he murmured.

“You thought wrong, and this is what you get in return.”

The meeting ended abruptly with a brief “ _dismissed_ ,” from Yakov. Only Yuri moved right away, seemingly unbothered by the confrontation that had just occurred in front of him. Most of his coworkers followed behind him, with the exception of a few eavesdroppers that tried to hold back for a bit, packing up their belongings slowly and quietly in hopes of hearing more of the dispute.

“Seriously? Plisetsky? Of all people?” Georgi groaned as he approached Yakov near the head of the table, trying to be as quiet as possible.

“Nikiforov’s not trained, and because of you, Babicheva is incapacitated. You should just feel lucky that I haven’t revoked your privilege to even go on these operations.” Yakov closed the laptop and turned off the projector. “Actually, better yet, you should feel lucky that I haven’t suspended you, since you thought destroying company property was a good call. Get your head out of your ass, Agent Popovich.”

Georgi’s posture faintly slumped forward in defeat as he turned around to leave in silence. Yuri stood near the exit, smirking at his colleague.

“What the fuck are you smirking at?”

“Should have just let me shoot.”

“Fuck you, Plisetsky.” Georgi spat before shoving hard past Yuri and disappearing around the corner.

The remainder of Yuri’s colleagues finally began filing out of the room, all with similar facial expressions that read ‘yikes’. When the room was all but empty, Yuri released the lock but continued to hold the door open. Viktor was still seated firmly in his chair, heavily concentrated on the laptop in front of him.

“You coming?”

“I think I’ll stick around in here until lunch. It’s in about,” he glanced up at the clock adjacent to him for a fraction of a second. “Five minutes.”

The unusual stoicism in Viktor made Yuri hesitate. Viktor may have been an enigma to Yuri for as long as he’d been at the agency, but he had always been an upbeat one. Seeing him somber was unnerving, and Yuri was almost tempted to ask if he needed to talk.

“Alright, do you want me to shut the door? Or…”

“You can come sit with me, you know,” Viktor said, reading Yuri’s mind while never looking up from his computer. “I won’t hurt you. I’m not trained, remember? I couldn’t take you out if I tried,” he faintly smirked.

Yuri shut the door and silently took a seat next to Viktor. He tried eyeing the computer to see was Viktor was up to but gave up after realizing he didn’t understand a single segment on the screen. He huffed. “Would you even _ want  _ to be trained?”

The older Russian shook his head slightly but didn’t say anything otherwise.

“Are you okay?”

Viktor stopped typing, though his fingers grazed the keys and his eyes stayed locked on the screen. He opened his mouth to speak but quickly shut it, as though trying to find the right words. “I know that with what we do, some things are inevitable. But it’s one thing to  _ know _ what goes on out on the field, it’s another thing to actually see it happen in front of you,” he shrugged. “After what happened last weekend I realized that I enjoy doing my work far,  _ far _ away from the action.”

“So, are you leaving the field then?”

This made Viktor bark out a laugh. “And let you try to crack a single firewall under pressure? I’d pay to witness that,” he said, shaking his head. Shortly after it passed, his eyes softened, and he fell quiet again. “I just don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”

A humorless laugh escaped Yuri. “Try being on the other side of the weapon.”

Viktor turned to face Yuri, an almost concerning expression crossing his features. He looked almost… _frightened_? “I’m going to tell you something, and I’ll deny it if you tell anybody else,” he warned, continuing after receiving a firm nod from the blonde. “I’ve been having this recurring nightmare… where Popovich goes insane and ends up hurting the entire team, whether it be directly or indirectly.” He paused to take a deep, but shaky breath. “After what happened last weekend… seeing the way he was so willing put Mila in peril, it just... it struck something in me. I mean, sure, I’ve always  _ preferred _ to do my work from a distance, but for the first time ever, I didn’t feel safe out on the field. I’ve barely been able to sleep since it happened.”

“Have you told Katsudon about this?”

“No, and I’d prefer it if you didn’t say anything to him. He’s been so busy with work, and with the wedding coming up…” Viktor trailed off before shaking his head. “I just don’t want him to worry.”

Yuri turned his gaze towards the floor. “Popovich ruins everything,” he muttered.

“Popovich is an asshole, that’s for sure. But that’s okay, because if he calls me ‘Tech Support’ one more time, I’ll just drain his bank account.”

Yuri couldn’t stop the genuine laugh that bubbled its way to the surface. “You’re always so dramatic.”

The older agent let out a small laugh of his own, then lightly nudged Yuri with his elbow, capturing the blonde’s attention. “I was gonna go grab coffee with Yuuri for lunch, do you want to come with and see Mila? I’ve been informed she’s able to have visitors now.”

Yuri nodded and ran back to his office, opting to use the now-non-existent window instead of the door. He swiped his suit jacket off of the worn leather chair behind his desk before taking the elevator down to the parking garage, meeting up with Viktor at his shiny black Porsche.

*** 

The drive to the hospital was brief, with a new record of only one complaint from Yuri regarding Viktor’s music selection.

“Gentlemen,” Yuri offered along with a nod as he and Viktor flashed their badges at the agents stationed outside of Mila’s room. Upon entering, they noticed Mila deep in conversation with one of the doctors.

Viktor made quick work of sneaking up behind the dark-haired professional. With footsteps as light as air, he placed his hands over the doctor’s eyes and waited for recognition to set in.

“Agent Nikiforov,” Yuuri said after a moment, grabbing the hands and lowering them as he whirled around in Viktor’s arms.

Viktor hummed in approval. “Dr. Katsuki,” he purred before placing a chaste kiss on his fiancé’s lips.

“Gross. Get out,” Yuri said as he passed them to sit in the chair next to Mila’s bed, bringing an ankle up to rest on his lower thigh and leaning back in a relaxed manner.

Yuuri laughed as he broke apart from the kiss and lowered his hands from Viktor’s biceps to his hands, intertwining their fingers. “Nice to see you too, Yurio,” the doctor said as he led his agent out of the room.

“Oh, for fu—that’s not my name!” Yuri called out as the snickering lovers exited the room and rounded the corner.

Yuri heard a faint giggle to his right and rolled his eyes. Still, he took the moment to examine his friend, immediately feeling a sense of relief wash over him. She looked a lot better than she had before the paramedics closed the ambulance doors in his face. Now, the only remaining evidence of her ever being hurt was the small bandage on the right side of her forehead and a fading bruise below her right eye.

“How are you?”

Mila frowned, not unlike a toddler about to throw a fit. She grabbed the apple from the table in front of her and took a bite, using the arm not currently occupied to give a careless shrug.

“That good, huh?”

She took a moment to swallow before responding, and Yuri didn’t miss the tinge of bitterness in her voice. “Those guards make me feel more like a prisoner than an agent, but I’m okay.”

“They’re just there to make sure nobody harms you. You’re valuable to this agency, you know.”

“I know I’m valuable to a certain  _ surveillance  _ agent, but the agency themselves? I’m pretty sure I’m expendable,” she said jokingly.

“You’re not expendable, Baba. But you  _ are _ benched until further notice. Feltsman has resorted to sending me in undercover.”

Mila’s smile immediately dropped, and Yuri could hear the slight panic creeping into her voice. “Wait, what? Yuri. No, that’s dangerous!”

“Says the best decoy in the agency.”

“Yes, but that’s my literal  _ job _ … well, besides kicking ass.” She smiled a bit to herself, taking a moment to calm herself back down. “ _ Your _ job is to sit behind a rifle one-hundred meters away and make sure nobody hurts your team, which, by the way…”

“Georgi told me not to shoot, I coul—”

“—Yuri,” the redhead cut him off, raising a hand. “I know. Viktor told me everything. I may not remember all of the events leading up to it, but I know you’d never let me get hurt on purpose.”

“So much so that Feltsman put me in charge of phase two.”

“Good,” Mila said, clapping her hands and rubbing them together maniacally. “Maybe that’ll teach Georgi to mess with us.”

“Mhmm…” Yuri daringly arched an eyebrow—knowing exactly where this was going.

“So, what kind of guy are we after?”

Yuri snorted in amusement. There it was. “ _ We  _ — meaning Georgi, Viktor, and I — are going after some twenty-three-year-old underboss on Saturday.  _ You _ , on the other hand, are staying right here until you’re released.”

“Back up for a second,” Mila put a hand on his arm to pause him. “ _ Twenty-three _ ? Are you serious?”

Yuri nodded his confirmation.

Mila let out a long groan and fell back against her many pillows. “Dr. Katsuki said I’ll be out of here and back at work by Thursday!” She tried to reason. “The least they could do is let me tag along, I never get to see any young bad guys in this line of work.”

The thought of putting his friend back in any sort of danger again, especially so soon, made Yuri shift uncomfortably in his chair. But deep down, he knew that Mila felt the same overwhelming need to protect him that he felt for her. Though they were never anywhere close each other on the field, they always kept an eye out for one another.

Yuri figured the only thing he could do in this situation was compromise. “You’re not going anywhere near the museum, but I’ll talk to Feltsman about getting you in the van to save my ass if things go wrong.”

“ _ When _ things go wrong,” Mila smirked. “Still though, I wanted to be the one to woo the young guy.”

“Yeah, what a shame, he’s even kind of cute,” he teased.

“Okay, now you’re just being cruel. I always get stuck with the gross old men, but then when a cute guy that’s my age pops up, you get to be the one to seduce him.” She shook her head. “Figures.”

“I am not  _ seducing _ anyone, Baba. I’m extracting vital information through a series of intelligent conversations, friendly gestures, and alcohol consumption.”

“Sure, uh huh.”

Their playful banter continued for only a few more minutes before they were interrupted by a gentle knock at the open door. Viktor and Dr. Katsuki had returned and were standing in the doorway, the former holding two steaming cups of coffee.

“I’m very sorry to interrupt,” Dr. Katsuki said as the pair cautiously entered the room. “But Mila, I unfortunately have to run a few more tests.”

Mila glanced at her friend nervously before looking up at the doctor and nodding.

Viktor could only give Yuri an apologetic smile as he held out the large coffee in front of him. “Ready to head back?”

Yuri stood up, accepting the small peace offering. He brought the paper cup closer to his nose, inhaling the inner contents bold scent. Freshly brewed black coffee was the key to Yuri’s contentment, and Viktor knew that, using it to his advantage every chance he got.

Before departing, Yuri turned back around to face Mila. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

She gave another nod, this time with a bright smile. “Okay.”


End file.
